


say it once, say it twice (take a chance and roll the dice)

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Series: a world unlike anything I've ever seen [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Kingdom Hearts, Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Horror, Crossover, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larxene spends her All Hallows Eve binge drinking deadly nightshade at the seedy pub around the corner from the town square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say it once, say it twice (take a chance and roll the dice)

**Author's Note:**

> Dark Month 2010, Day 1-take two, Nightmare before Christmas fusions.

Larxene spends her All Hallows Eve binge drinking deadly nightshade at the seedy pub around the corner from the town square. She knocks back her seventh shot of the night, feels the liquid burn its way down her ruined throat and hates Axel. Just a little bit.  
  
She hates him because he left her for some pretty little blond thing in the world of light. Hates him for crawling out of the dredges of Halloween town and somehow, _somehow_ camouflaging himself among the normal people. She remembers the way she'd sneered at him, eying the fire in his hair and the acid in his eyes, and said "one day he's going to wake up and realize you're a monster."  
  
Axel had just shrugged, the movement dislodging a piece of cracked skull. The chunk of flesh bounced off his shoulder, landed on one of her dragon-skin boots and she wanted to _stomp on it_. But he'd smiled at her, and the expression was almost pretty on his ruined, dead face. His face twisted into what was almost happiness, and he'd grinned with affection, _affection_ and not a hint of malice when he said, "He already knows that I'm a monster, Larx."  
  
Axel's boots had crunched on the skull-cobbled street as he leaned towards her, and she couldn't even relish the sound of the bones whimpering because he was drawing closer- malice drooling back into his poison-bright eyes. His lips ghosted over her ear, whisper soft, the way it had so many times before and he breathed, "Love, Larx. It's so much more... addicting than hate."  
  
And he'd left her, standing in the middle of the street, bones whimpering beneath her and her empty chest aching for a heart.  
  
She hates him for finding his heart, hates herself for not having one, and hates everything because he knows that she's never been capable of an emotion so mundane, so needless as love.  
  
The seventh shot tastes worse than the others and she eyes the bartender warily, wonders if he's so pissed about missing the festivities that he'd be willing to poison a patron. She checks her glass, because you can never be too cautious. After all, it had happened a couple Halloween's ago. A restaurant owner's wife had told him to keep the business open on the night and he'd gone mad, murdered four banshees and a vampire before he'd been stopped.  
  
But the bartender is sitting propped against his stool, looking bored and _polishing the glasses_ , clipped ear cocked towards the door because they're close enough to the square to hear the echoes of music, laughter, and screams. Electricity crackles up her spine- dances between her gaping ribs in excitement, and she thinks that it's probably not too late to join---  
  
There's a girl reclining on the stool a few feet away, lovely in the way that most of Halloween town's occupants are not. Larxene doesn't know when she could have come in, because for most of the night she's been glaring at the door.  
  
The girl's curling fire up her arm, playing with it the way that Axel used to- but they're blue flames, not red. And for that, Larxene thinks she can probably forgive her. The girl throws her a glance- pale honey and beautiful, too similar to those of the world of light. Larxene feels uneasy, off kilter, like she's been shoved into one of those other holiday worlds, the too bright worlds of happiness and laughter.  
  
It's only when the girl smiles at her that she relaxes, because shark's teeth stretch the girl's lips, white and too long, making her smile gape obscenely. There's a crack, and the girl's jaw pops to accommodate the width of that gaping, wicked grin. The girl gestures and the bartender sighs, plunking another glass in front of Larxene. This shot is too green, not the dull purple blend of nightshade and hemlock that she'd been drinking and she wonders-  
  
"Acid," the girl says, and _oh,_ she's shuffled much closer while Larxene was contemplating her drink. She's still smiling, and those needle sharp teeth catch on the edge of her lip, draws blood that's too red. Lightning dances up Larxene's throat, scorching its way up, telling her _pleasepleaseitlookssogood._  
  
The girl gestures to the drink again. "Try it," she says, and her tongue trickles past her razor-wire teeth, licks up the blood drooling down her chin. Larxene's mouth waters.  
  
"They say it's bad for you, but mm, the kick is just _amazing_ ," she shivers, wraps too pretty arms around a perfectly intact body. Her smile goes even more wicked, and she reaches out with one hand. Larxene happily notes that she at least has claws on this plain body. Poor girl was already so unfortunately gifted. "Azula," the girl says, grabbing Larxene's hand in her own and pumping it swiftly.  
  
Larxene pulls back, and thinks that she's probably a little bit more intoxicated than she'd wanted to be because the girl's pretty, fleshy body is making her ache with lust.  
  
"Larxene," she says, and downs the shot.  
  
Acid hurts the way everyone says it does. It burns through your throat as it goes- leaves blisters clinging to your insides but Azula was right, it does have an amazing kick.  
  
It makes her head spin, makes the cobwebs on the ceiling look like ladders and she can see why Azula had recommended this. The woman's smiling again when she looks back, and it's contagious, because the next thing she knows she's smiling back. Static crackles across her teeth, turns them blue in the dim light like her electricity, her wiring is trying to be charming. She shushes it quickly, a little embarrassed that her own element would give her intrigue away.  
  
Azula's got her elbow up on the freshly greased counter, propping her chin up and regarding Larxene with interested, pretty, pretty, _pretty eyes_. Electricity snaps again, singeing her third and fourth vertebrae and she thinks, _if this girl doesn't take me home with her, I'm probably going to kill her._ The taste of blood already clings to the back of her teeth and when Azula's fingers tap tap tap against the bar, she wants to suck out the marrow.  
  
The bartender is glaring at them, has moved on to releasing fresh spiders from a jar. She wonders what drink he's making. Wonders if she can ask for one.  
  
"So, _Lar_ xene," Azula starts, her voice curling around the syllables of Larxene's name like it's scorpion-crunch pudding, "Wanna crash that party up at the square?"  
  
Blue flames crackle, snapping out like whips to curl around Larxene's wrist. The smell of burning flesh is the most wonderful thing she's smelt all day, the burn making a sharp spike of arousal shoot through her circuits. Azula's grin is scarier than the Pumpkin King's, she thinks, and oh yes, maybe this is some version of love.  
  
They leave together, electricity curling with fire like the brush of hands and Larxene thinks with feeling, _fuck Axel_ and sets her lightning on a gaggle of trick or treaters. Azula giggles at her side and sets the pub on fire.  
  
Oh yes. Axel may have left her for some pretty little brat, but when she looks at Azula, whose eyes are bright with madness, she thinks she definitely got the better end of the femur.


End file.
